


Sparring Partners

by FaerieChild



Category: Lord John Series - Diana Gabaldon, Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28316067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaerieChild/pseuds/FaerieChild
Summary: This story will make the most sense if you have read The Scottish Prisoner but can be read as a stand alone. While recovering from his wounds, John Grey removes himself to Helwater on the advice of his Doctor in order to enjoy fresh air and exercise and recover his strength. (Contains references to canon-compliant sexual assault.)
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser, Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey
Comments: 39
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

Part 1

Jamie Fraser grasped the horse’s reins as the carriage horses settled and watched the butler struggle to support the frail form of Lord John Grey as he dismounted.

Jamie hated to describe the man thus but it was only accurate after all. Jamie hadn’t seen the man since he had left London and at that point John was still laid up in bed at his brother’s house nursing his not inconsiderable wounds.

Surviving a swordfight was not to be sniffed at and having done the long months of recuperation from his own wounds after Culloden, Jamie had some idea of what was involved in the whole affair. A frustrating amount of bedrest for a start, and sometimes too many people, and a claustrophobic mundane sort of repetition of people and places and faces and routines.

Now that he knew Hal Grey a little, Jamie was not the least bit surprised to see John had escaped his brothers clutches as soon as he was physically capable of leaving and matters allowed John to come north to Helwater for a period of fresh air and recuperation.

He watched with concern as the long-suffering butler struggled to support John until the butler finally called Jamie over to assist. Jamie was forced to entrust the horses back to the driver for now while Jamie was needed elsewhere. The horses would still be there when he got back. John on the other hand looked like he was in no fit position to be walking unaided and was being particularly stubborn about it.

Jamie frowned heavily and grasped one of John’s arms and slung it around his neck, ignoring John’s protests. The butler was being his usually over-deferential self while Jamie took one look at his friend and in one expression told John exactly what he thought.

‘No greetings for an old friend?’ John tried to smile.

Jamie bit his tongue and decided to focus on getting John up to the guest room while the family looked on with concern. Even little William appeared with his head poking out from the nursery to see what the commotion was while his nurse tried to usher him back in with little success.

As soon as they were in the bedroom the butler and Jamie deposited John on the bed, clothes and all. The butler looked at Jamie. ‘Thank you, Mackenzie.’

Jamie nodded at the butler and then turned back towards his old friend, ignoring the usual protocols.

John gave him a wry and slightly over-enthusiastic grin. ‘I do feel rather like I’ve been dragged around like a sack of potatoes but I suppose thanks are probably in order.’

‘Ya daft lummock! What in God’s name possessed you to travel in such a state?’ Jamie muttered under his breath. Not quietly enough, apparently. The poor old butler looked outraged, and out in the hallway Jamie heard a giggle that suggested to him that Isobel Dunsany might be lurking rather closer than was really proper.

‘Well its good to see you too,’ John smiled a weak smile. ‘In truth it was either this or kill my brother.’

Jamie’s responding expression clearly communicated that in that case he didn’t understand why Hal Grey was apparently still alive and breathing.

‘The Doctor thought some fresh air and countryside would do me good,’ John expanded. ‘The wound has healed well but I’m weak as a kitten and I will soon need to start daily walks and exercises to rebuild my fighting strength.’

‘Next ye’ll be telling me ye intended on attempting hand-to-hand combat with Dunsany.’

‘Now there’s a thought...’ John mused as if Jamie had put a genuinely good idea into his head.

Jamie wondered in fact if his friend was quite alright in the head. John attempted to sit up but Jamie pushed him back down again, ignoring the butler to take charge himself. He took a look at John’s eyes - a careful look.

High as a kite.

‘I may have taken a small quantity of opium to ease the pain on the journey.’

‘Course ye did,’ Jamie rolled his eyes and then looked to the butler. Not so much out of worry for what the butler would think by his over familiar manner with John. More out of concern for what John might let slip in his drugged up state. ‘Its alright, I can see to him.’

‘Well,’ The butler harumphed. ‘This is quite irregular.’

‘Aye, I suppose it is. Would ye rather the Lady Isobel undress him to his nightshirt?’

‘Oh gosh! That would be entirely improper! Perhaps the footman...but then dinner is so soon.’ There wasn’t even another male servant. There being only one man in the house, the butler personally dressed Dunsany and there was little need for another male servant apart from the footman who ended up doing anything and everything else and apparently Lord John’s usual manservant wasn’t with him today. The butler was needed for the running of the house and it was an inconvenient time of day to be receiving guests.

‘I’ll see to Lord John,’ Jamie assured him. ‘I ken what I’m doing.’

‘Well I suppose one of the other grooms can see to the horses,’ The butler mused and then looking again at the state of his guest seemed to consolidate his opinion. ‘Yes, perhaps in the circumstances...be mindful to use the back stairs on the way down though. The kitchen maids can get anything you need.’

‘Of course.’

As soon as the butler was gone Jamie cast his eyes over John from head to foot in a manner that John might have found alluring had it not been so scathing.

‘I can manage perfectly well, thank you.’

‘Tha thu gòrach, Iain. Tha thusa làn cac.’

‘Don’t think I don’t know what you’re saying I learned all the best insults at Ardsmuir.’

‘Much good it did ye,’ Jamie tugged off John’s boots and set them down beside the bed.

‘You have yet to compare me to either a fish or gannet as yet so it can’t be that bad.’

‘There’s still time,’ Jamie promised. ‘Ye should have stayed in London. At least there ye had Minnie, ya daft pillock.’

John’s slightly addled mind tried to point out that he ought to feel some sort of objection to being undressed and put to bed like a child but then he reminded himself it was Jamie doing the undressing and he could probably live with that.

Jamie leaned in and for a moment John had a faint hope the man might kiss him until Jamie sniffed at John’s face. ‘Brandy as well, is it?’

‘For medicinal purposes only, I assure you.’

Jamie snorted with derision but went about his work. Jamie’s attitude might appear derisory but John had to admit Jamie undressed him with a surprising degree of care and tenderness until he was only in his nightshirt and then pulled the covers up over him.

‘I’ll have the maid fetch up a bowl of broth.’

‘I don’t think I’m hungry.’ John said.

‘I don’t think I care,’ Jamie threw back, channeling Claire’s most severe bedside manner. He watched John swallow hard and then patted the man’s leg through the covers.

‘Are you going to sit there staring me down until I finish it?’

‘If I have to,’ Jamie promised. ‘Welcome to Helwater, old friend.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tha thu gòrach, Iain.’ - You are stupid, John.
> 
> ‘Tha thusa làn cac.’ - You are full of shit.
> 
> I have decided due to the way gaelic is used in the fandom that it would be appropriate to give sources for my use of Gaelic as people are copying each other with no idea whether it is authentic gaelic or not and that makes me uneasy. I am a gaelic learner so I will try to give information about my use of Gaelic wherever I can.
> 
> These gaelic insults are sourced from Duolingo, and a Peat & Diesel cover song ‘Fairytale of Stornoway’ respectively.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2 

Jamie retreated to the stables with concern that night. In all their time travelling together in Ireland the strained nature of their relationship had settled somewhat. Some months previously they had had an almighty blow-out argument in the stables about John’s feelings and with the benefit of hindsight neither of them had conducted themselves all that well. Now after travelling together in Ireland, Jamie’s outrage at John’s unnatural feelings towards him had simmered down somewhat. That didn’t mean he liked it, but he knew John better now. The man was largely well meaning and generally quite harmless although it appeared John was a little too eager to find a hill to die on if the notion took him.

After providing help towards John and his brother, Jamie was no longer at risk of deportation to the colonies and was at leisure to stay at Helwater a little longer while William was still young. Knowing he was finally safe did a lot to help Jamie relax in his manner towards John and knowing him better, and knowing his family, had helped Jamie realise he could trust the man.

Well, he could trust the man not to molest him but apparently he couldn’t trust the man not to be a complete eejit.

The following morning Jamie rose early and saw to the horses along with his fellow groomsmen. After the horses were tended to they made their way up to the big house for breakfast in the staff dining room as was customary. As he entered the kitchen, Jamie was stopped by the butler who enquired whether Jamie might assist in attending to Lord John with his valet Tom still being in London.

The butler paused awkwardly, took in a deep breath, attempted to launch into a further explanation and then apparently thought the better of it.

A wry smile tugged at Jamie’s lip. ‘Aye, I’ll see to his Lordship.’

‘Lord John is of course a very dear and beloved friend of the family however his is proving a little difficult this morning and yesterday evening he did seem to respond to your particular...style.’ The butler said carefully.

Jamie could see the rest of the household staff pretending they weren’t listening in. Jamie realised he was fast gaining a reputation as the man to fall back on when all else failed. Well that suited him just fine but there was much whispering amongst the maids when Jamie went up the back stairs after breakfast.

Far from being in the relaxed state of repose Jamie expected, instead he found John curled in a pathetic heap on the floor halfway across the same guest-bedroom he always slept in, insisting he was perfectly alright.

‘I see the opium wore off,’ Jamie said by way of greeting.

‘I’m perfectly fine. Thank you for asking.’

‘What are you doing out of bed?’

‘I’m getting up.’ John responded, clutching the floor a little tighter.

‘Indeed? And where were you thinking of going on this fine morning?’

‘Breakfast,’ John said in as sturdy a voice as he could manage. ‘I’m just taking a short break on my way to the dresser.’

Jamie snorted and tilted his head sideways. ‘Right ye are, My Lord.’

After several long minutes of deliberation, Lord John came around to the conclusion that perhaps he could rest in bed for just a few minutes longer.

Jamie stood and waited for John to get himself up until he - extremely reluctantly - admitted that he might need a bit of help. Jamie helped raise John off the floor and held his elbow as he watched John shuffling back to bed. John quickly collapsed with a groan that was half relief and half pain at the landing. Jamie channeled his best ‘what would Claire do’ manner and tucked him in so tight he wouldn’t be getting out of there any time soon in his current state.

John looked like he was caught between trying to sneak a glance down Jamie’s shirt and absolute fury at being treated like a child.

‘There ye are, My Lord.’

‘You’re enjoying this!’ Lord John accused him.

Jamie screwed up his face in what Lord John realised was an attempt at a wink and before he could gather himself Jamie was halfway out the door. ‘I’ll send the maids up with a fresh bed pan.’

John lay back and groaned.

‘An dinnae be thinking of getting up any time before dinner or I’ll tell yer brother where ye are.’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’

Jamie only smirked and left the room with a spring in his step. He had to admit he was having a bit more fun with this than was probably entirely proper but after so many years under John’s parole, Jamie had to admit turnabout was fair play.

Indeed, for the next two days any time John attempted to leave his room the housekeeper sent for Jamie who promptly escorted the protesting John Grey back to his room. On the third day in the afternoon, Jamie came up to check on John after a suspiciously quiet day without a single interruption. Jamie found John lying against his pillows fast asleep. Jamie stopped in the doorway as he took in the image of John and William both lying fast asleep. At some point William had escaped the clutches of his nurse and had found his way into John room and climbed up onto the foot of the bed where he had promptly fallen asleep for his afternoon nap.

A quiet clearing of a throat stirred Jamie and he looked up to find Isobel standing next to him in the hallway. Jamie wasn’t in the manner of doffing his cap to the family, much to the consternation of the other members of the staff, but Jamie greeted her politely all the same and stood aside to let her past.

‘No, no, I wouldn’t want to disturb them. I confess I hadn’t the heart to wake my nephew. His afternoon nap is just about the only respite we get these days.’

Jamie allowed himself to watch the wee lad sleep and felt his heart swell at the familiar sight of his son. He felt eyes on him and glanced up to find Isobel watching him watch William. Jamie shifted uncomfortably. ‘Well,’ He said, ‘I suppose I had better return to the stables.’

‘Mackenzie?’

Jamie stopped and turned towards Isobel.

‘Do you think Lord John’s wounds are so very serious?’

Jamie heard an underlying worry, a wobble in her voice that displayed her very real fears of losing someone who was almost a surrogate son to the Dunsany family and who had been a great comfort to Isobel after the loss of her sister.

‘I think he is safe now. It is hard for a man of Lord John’s constitution to lie still all these tedious hours. But he will heal all the sooner with proper rest.’

Isobel watched Lord John for a long moment and then nodded and excused herself leaving Jamie alone in the room. Several long moments after Isobel’s footsteps had faded, Jamie was watching John’s face curiously when one eye opened and cast an urgent glance around the room.

Jamie snorted. ‘Yer safe. She’s quite gone.’

Lord John sighed loudly. ‘Oh thank God. I confess I couldn’t quite bear the thought of conversation...’

More footsteps sounded in the hallway. Lord John immediately resumed his fake sleep, closing both eyes and placing his hands in a restful pose on top of the covers as Lady Dunsany came to check that Mackenzie would watch William for a short while until he awoke so that he didn’t bother Lord John who needed his rest. She spoke in soft whispers so as not to wake John as Jamie kept a sincere face and nodded solemnly until Lady Dunsany too was gone and John was finally safe to ‘wake up again’.

Jamie and John caught each others eye and the two of them fell into smothered laughter, attempting to stifle it so as not to either awaken William or draw the attention of the rest of the household.

‘That was not becoming of you,’ Jamie told John pointedly.

‘Perhaps, but unlike you I am stuck here subject to all and sundry who visit until I am set free. And if I must rest the very least you can do for a friend is fetch a chess board,’ John concluded.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Long hours of chess and bed rest meant that after a couple more days John had recovered from the fatigue of the journey and was well enough to begin having a gentle stroll around the garden every day. Just a few steps at first, and then further. He was still delicate and frustrated by the slow progress. Soon he was dressing and eating dinner with the family. John spent long hours with Isobel who read books to him and Jamie would occasionally pass by as they walked together in the garden. John liked Isobel’s company, but not to the exclusion of all else and one could have too much of a good thing and he yearned for a bit more variety and stimulation in his days.

Fortunately, William and Lady Dunsany kept Isobel busy for many hours each day and then there was Isobel’s own book and music and art studies. After all, no lady was truly considered accomplished who could not embroider well, play the harpsichord and draw a good likeness.

Before long John’s gentle garden walks had become longer, more challenging walks around the hills surrounding Helwater. Early in the mornings Jamie began to see John running on the paths around the estate before the family was up and doing other athletic exercises to rebuild his strength. Back home in Scotland once upon a time the strongest men of a clan would lift stones to build their strength and take part in competitions to see who was the mightiest. Jamie saw in John’s exercises a different sort of fitness - more of the army drills that were so familiar from watching the prison guards at Ardsmuir.

One morning John stopped by the stables as he caught his breath. A couple of working horses had come back to the stables from an early morning’s work in the fields and Jamie was busy brushing out the mud in the feathers around the hooves.

Jamie stopped his work to look up and nodded in acknowledgement of his audience. ‘Ye’re looking better,’ Jamie commented.

John took in a deep breath, ‘I feel better.’

‘Fighting fit.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far. Admittedly my strength is coming back a little, day by day. Though I still tire much before I would like. As for fighting however, I’m afraid I’m rather short on sparring partners up here. In London there are always willing gentlemen at the club.’

Jamie bit his tongue. He was reminded yet again of his advice to John upon his arrival here that he would have been better remaining in London for his recuperation. John watched Jamie straighten up and pat the big Shire horse’s neck and excused himself to go about his business.

Over the following days, Jamie looked up to feel Lord John’s eyes on him often as he carried sacks of oats and bales of hay, accepted food deliveries in to the house and helped the farm workers with sacks of potatoes. There was tack to be carried around and water to be hauled and stables to be mucked out. It was little wonder that Jamie was still lean and well muscled for all that he was maturing into middle age.

As John continued to get his strength back he began to go riding most days and Jamie or one of the other grooms was required to ready a horse - usually Dunsany’s own - for John’s use. From time to time he would arrive back as Jamie was giving William his riding lesson and observed keenly how eager the boy was to please ‘Mac’ and also how stubborn his temper was and how expertly Jamie dealt with the boy.

It was over dinner that night that Lady Dunsany complimented John on how much better he was looking than when he had first arrived and John used the opportunity to compliment the Dunsanys on the fresh air and scenery of Helwater which had done so much to lift his spirits and help him regain his strength. ‘I am only sadly in want of a sparring partner for fencing and suchlike or I should be quite content.’

‘I presume you asked Mackenzie,’ Isobel put in.

Of course John had not asked Jamie. The thought had occurred to him but he was anxious not to disrupt the careful detente between himself and Dunsany over Jamie’s position and Dunsany himself looked decidedly uncomfortable at his daughter’s suggestion.

John smiled passively. Inside his belly was turmoil. After all, Jamie was a natural fighter. With sword and fist and pistol. He might be a bit out of practice these days but something about the prospect of sparring with Jamie got John’s blood singing. And yet, there was still the politics of it. It didn’t look good to be arming and training a man of Jamie’s background, did it?

‘Oh, Mackenzie has proven himself perfectly trustworthy over the years,’ Lady Dunsany put in. ‘Where would be the trouble in it?’ No doubt everyone was thinking of the notorious incident with the pistol upon William’s birth, saving the family the tragedy of losing a grandchild as well as a daughter.

‘I feel uneasy about the suggestion,’ Dunsany admitted. ‘But my wife is also correct. Mackenzie’s good sense has been a boon to us these last few years and your friendship, John, has been hugely valuable to us as a family. I will allow to use your own judgement on the matter, John. You may do what you think best.’

It was as close to a blessing as John was going to get and his stomach flipped at the prospect. He sat on it all the next day, watching the way the muscles of Jamie’s back rippled through his shirt. John took a deep breath and gave himself a strong talking to.

In the middle of the night in the darkness of his room, John let his fantasies take hold and then woke up to the reality in the morning of once more dancing around Jamie’s delicate stance on John’s feelings. Jamie had mellowed in his acceptance of John’s feelings but it was quite clear to John that Jamie would never embrace them. For long hours Jamie had sat by his bed as he slept, read to him, played chess with him.

At times when John was half-asleep, he thought Jamie looked at him with a sort of tenderness that made his heart hope and then he gave himself a talking to and told himself to adjust his expectations. He wondered if he could go through with it. What if Jamie accepted? But could he live with himself if he did not take the opportunity presented.

It was a couple of days before John had the moral courage to approach Jamie. It was the stables again, always a slightly sore spot for John on account of a blistering argument they had had once there about John’s feelings and Jamie had made himself clear in no uncertain terms.

John had spent a long time licking those wounds. It was with no small sense of trepidation that he asked for a moment of Jamie’s time and then walked outside to inform him that Dunsany was agreeable to Jamie sparring with John if he was willing.

Jamie looked up with a mixture of wary suspicion and cat-like curiosity. ‘Sparring, you say? I’m not going to get exported if I so much as touch a firearm?’

‘You are operating under my parole and with the permission of both myself and Lord Dunsany. Besides, I think we’ll leaving the pistols and real blades for another time. Fencing with foil tips only, I think. Plus a little hand-to-hand if you were up for it.’

Jamie’s expression in response would have been a come-on if the man were anyone other than Jamie Fraser. ‘Ye’re a bolder man than I thought if ye think ye can take me, John Grey. Aye. Fine then. I’ll spar wi’ ye if it won’t get in the way of my other duties. Though I warn you I may be a little out of practice.’

‘Oh, I’m counting on it,’ John grinned devilishly and turned to almost dance his way back to the house.

Jamie watched him go, shaking his head. ‘Be careful what ye wish for, John Grey.’


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

They began early the next morning. John Grey had suggested meeting at dawn until Jamie had pointed out he had work to be doing at the stables early in the morning. Instead, much to John’s consternation they ended up meeting on a quiet patch of the grounds late in the morning when the last of Jamie’s morning chores were mostly done.

Jamie knew that his absence would most likely be noted by the other outdoor and indoor staff and he didn’t suppose it would be long before he was up to his eyeballs in questions about sparring with Lord John. Or worse, spectators. They met on a sheltered corner of the grounds surrounded by mature trees with a bed of soft pine needles underneath. Lord John had somehow produced a couple of French style foils and John informed Jamie that he had sparred with Gordon many a time in this exact spot.

‘And were the two of you...’ Jamie tilted his head meaningfully.

It took a moment to realise quite what Jamie was alluding to.

‘Goodness, no. Gordon was dear friend but...no.’ John held out one of the blades for Jamie to take. ‘I realise I may have you at a disadvantage. You will doubtless be more familiar with the heavier broadsword.’

Jamie said nothing, only hummed quietly and examined the foil, feeling the balance of it in his hand and nodding to himself. He had studied the French school during his visits to France many years before, first as a youth and then with Claire, but he didn’t need to tell John that immediately, did he?

They started off carefully, going through a few formalities and then some drills. Every step of the way Jamie was careful to watch John and copy. When they finally faced off for the first time, John began slowly making careful, patient moves assuming Jamie was the lesser of the two and complimented Jamie for being a fast learner. Their parries and thrusts became pace by pace faster, more aggressive, and more advanced and adept.

John could not hide his surprise at Jamie’s quick defensive reflexes in response to one particular attack.

‘I must confess my surprise. If I didn’t know you better I would have sworn you had done this before,’ John said at one point as they paused for breath.

Jamie grinned wickedly.

‘Oh you scoundrel!’

Jamie only shrugged, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

‘Now you’re for it!’

Jamie grinned, laughing as John slightly lost his temper and launched himself into a fierce series of assaults that Jamie defended and countered and soon, just as in their chess games it was John on the back foot and Jamie relishing it until John was backed up against a tree, his chest having and his blood running hot. John’s only thought in that moment was how magnificent Jamie looked, his muscles pulsing and his chest heaving with the effort, leaning over John and making the final jab that won him the match.

Both stood still for long moments, breathing together and staring each other in the eye. A moment passed between them and Jamie felt himself curiously reluctant to move. Like a cat that had finally cornered its prey. John was sweating and breathing heavily, the lithe form of him revealed by the way the sweat of his shirt made it cling to his torso and even his trousers looked a little tight around the groin.

‘I believe you have me at a disadvantage, sir.’ John croaked.

In an almost visceral reaction, Jamie took three large steps back and gave John all the space in the world. He cleared his throat, scrubbing his face anxiously.

‘John...’

‘Its quite alright. You have leave to go.’

Jamie scrubbed his face once more, dropped the foil to the grounds and fled back to the safety of the stables. That night Jamie’s troubled mind kept him awake long after his fellows had gone to sleep. He lay awake, staring at the rafters and fretting over the way his body had sung in response to John’s proximity.

It was unnatural, that is what it was. And it was a drug and Jamie wanted more of it. And he dreaded more of it.

The nightmares came back that night. Nightmares that had long since left him and Jamie awoke in a vicious sweat and stormed out of the stable into the night, ending up in that same godforsaken glade under the pine trees. Remembering the way that John’s eyes had lit up and the resolve to best Jamie when he realised Jamie’s expertise with the foil. The dancing back-and-forth of their bodies...

Jamie took in a deep breath and tried to swallow down the sense of nausea and looked up at the stars. Heracles hung there, taunting him.

And if it wasn’t Randall it was bloody Sandringham and memories of long ago in Leoch churning his stomach - his uncles telling him to just be agreeable to his Grace and play the good host. Well Jamie knew where those hands wanted to wander, and other things, and knew as well his uncles didn’t give a damn as long as they both got what the Mackenzie Clan wanted. Using him like they had used his scars. It wasn’t until Claire came into his life that Jamie had started to see their grooming for what it was.

He thought of Fergus, his son, growing into a man at Lallybroch without him. At least with a bit of luck Fergus might be free of such devilish things there.

Jamie stayed out the rest of that night, lying against a tree watching the scars and shivering with the cold. He got up before dawn and started to see to the horses, taking care of his morning ablutions on the way back before starting to see to his duties at the stables. That day when John came to enquire Jamie made his excuses and suggested tomorrow would be better.

Jamie noted the concern in John’s eyes and so lied to his face that he was perfectly fine and only had a restive night with the horses.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

The rest of that day Jamie took care to focus on thoughts of Claire and William, and a better night’s sleep was the result visited by more pleasant dreams.

Jamie returned to their duelling ground convinced he had put the episode behind him and was eager to throw himself into the new challenge with gusto.

It wasn’t often Jamie got a change in stimulation. His life was one of routine, of physical labour and the skills of horsemanship. Duties towards the family, William’s riding lessons, and being a reliable male servant for the protection of the women of the house.

Jamie suspected it was in this capacity that Lady Dunsany had been most enthusiastic in allowing this exercise between John and himself - at least if the footman’s account of the dinner was anything to go by.

With a new sense of resolve, Jamie turned down the foil when John attempted to hand it to him.

‘Are you quite well? Are you really turning down the chance to best me yet again?’

‘Not at all. On the contrary, I recall ye mentioned sparring with our bare hands when this first came up.’

John pointed his foil towards the ground. Well that was not what he had been expecting after the strange episode upon their last encounter. ‘And...you are quite comfortable with this?’

‘I’d rather we avoid bare-knuckle boxing on account of needing my hands for work. But wrestling, perhaps? Aye. though I haven’t done it since I was a lad. But I think we can both agree to be gentleman and avoid any underhanded tactics or delicate places.’

On the one hand, John had little doubt that when it came down to it, Jamie’s sheer size and musculature would have the better of him. On the other hand, John knew that other men often underestimated him and by God, fighting was the next best thing to sex and that wouldn’t be happening with Jamie any time soon.

‘If I accept, but at any time you feel uncomfortable or take a turn you may bow out without yielding,’ John suggested.

‘Only if you accept the same terms,’ Jamie retorted.

‘Done.’

They shook hands on it, something John insisted was becoming a new fashion amongst the gentlemen’s clubs in London. And if Jamie held his hand a little longer than was typically the case, well John wasn’t going to argue with that.

The sparring began as their first duel had, dancing around each other in circles. The odd lunge here and there while they got the measure of each other. John attempted to go low, Jamie caught him round the arm, John wriggled out and back to the start. So it continued almost like a dance. One attempting a move, the other giving way. John was indeed stronger than he looked although Jamie was wary of abusing his torso too much so soon after a serious injury and John was using Jamie’s hesitation to his advantage. John got Jamie by the leg and was able to get Jamie off balance only for Jamie to rescue himself and spring back to his feet before John could pin him.

They circled each other again, out of breath and eyes shining.

‘You’re holding back,’ John accused him. He took a moment to imagine Jamie topless and smothered in oil like some of the famous wrestlers in London. Well, a man could dream.

Like going into battle, Jamie could feel his blood rise only with less of the existential dread that came with imminent death. Jamie got John by the head. John retaliated by hooking his foot around Jamie’s ankle and toppling him over. This time instead of scrambling away the wrestling continued on the ground. First one getting the the upper hand and then the other until finally Jamie hooked his arm through John’s elbow and flipped John onto his back, lying full length of top of John with his arms pinned.

Jamie and John breathed heavily, sweat coating both of their bodies with Jamie’s heavy core pinning him at the hips. Blood pulsing, their fighting instincts rushing to the surface and eyes dancing and alive with the excitement.

It took a moment for John to process the insistent bulge prodding into his thigh. And what it meant.

Jamie was aroused.

John’s eyes widened as Jamie stayed in place.

‘Do you yield?’

John could only groan and throw his head back against the ground. Was the man trying to kill him? ‘What if I don’t?’

‘Ye ken ye have to yield.’

Actually, John thought he could perfectly well lie here all day with Jamie’s erection pressed into his thigh, the heavy weight of Jamie’s body pressing his own into the ground and the heady scent of Jamie’s sweat in his nostrils. After long, long moments of tension John let himself relax into Jamie’s body and pressed his own hips into Jamie’s. Jamie’s nostrils flared though whether it was sex or anger John couldn’t tell.

‘I yield,’ John said at length.

Jamie stayed where he was.

‘You know, if you wanted me flat on my back all you ever had to do was ask,’ John said softly.

Like a flame had touched him Jamie leaped back and paced away rapidly to the other end of the glade. John, lamenting this, reluctantly picked himself up before Jamie turning back with renewed vigor - or possibly fury - and rounded on him again.

‘Just out of curiosity are we at the ‘angrily questioning myself’ stage where you pace back and forth and sort of vent a bit or the ‘lets fuck and ask questions later’ stage because honestly either is fine but a bit of clarity would be nice.’

Jamie, confusion and need and want and guilt roiled within him. He had been convinced that physically mastering John would allow Jamie to master this messy, damnable heartache for the man and now...

John found himself pinned up against a tree with Jamie’s lips pressing into his own.

‘God damn you John Grey. I want to-’

Jamie cut himself off.

‘Tell me.’

‘I want to touch you. I want to kiss you. I want this witchcraft gone from my head. I want to stop thinking about you. Every day watching ye...’

John had to laugh.

‘All that panting up and down half dressed in front of the stables. You were doing that deliberately!’

John pressed his hips into Jamie’s, waiting for Jamie’s own reaction. Seeing the fight or flight kick in and Jamie’s struggle to overcome it. ‘This I am doing deliberately.’ John told Jamie as he pressed his own groin against Jamie’s.

He watched Jamie’s nostrils flare, his lips descended again as Jamie’s lips devoured John until they broke apart, breathless and Jamie came to rest his forehead against John’s.

‘No one’s making you do anything. Your choice,’ John promised. He held his breath in trepidation, hoping against hope that Jamie would choose to relieve the curling tension low in his body. A hand came to his waist, unbuttoning his trousers. John responded in kind until they held each other in hand and brought each other to completion in a fast, jerking frenzy of sweaty palms and body odour.


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

Afterwards Jamie only wanted long lazy kisses amongst the pine needles, pulling John back every time he suggested going back to the house. Jamie on the other hand was quiet a long time after that. Not wanting John to go but not wanting to talk either.

‘What are you thinking?’ John asked him after a while.

‘I’m thinking its almost enough to make me believe in the wee folk,’ Jamie glanced at John. ‘I cannae explain what it is. I dinnae even like blokes that way. Every bloke I’ve ever known except you who’s like that was-’

‘A prick?’

Jamie snorted. ‘Aye.’

‘You don’t have to explain yourself, Jamie.’

‘Can ye meet me here tomorrow?’

John smiled indulgently. ‘Yes, Jamie. I can meet you here tomorrow.’

Jamie spent the night at the stable loft recounting the events of the day at the glade and wondering what had gotten into him. He said his rosary and did his prayers for Claire and the bairn and for Fergus and his family at Lallybroch. Jamie wondered what had gotten into him. He had spent half his life terrified at what John might ask of him and the other half wanting to kiss him and now that Jamie had finally admitted to wanting to kiss him he had never been less terrified of what John might ask of him.

How did it even work with men, Jamie wondered. Not the mechanics, oh Jamie knew all about that stuff all too well. How did it work in real life? Friends. Neighbours. Bachelors. Would there be rumours? Everyone knew it was all but illegal. Hal would find out - would that help or hinder John’s situation when he found out? What if Jamie got send back to prison? Or out to the colonies?

The following day when they met at the glade there was no pretence at foils or wrestling or sparring. Jamie only gravitated towards John and gasping his waist backed him up against the nearest tree until his thigh was massaging John’s groin and John was groaning into Jamie’s manhandling of him.

Later still Jamie tried to pretend his face wasn’t red as a beetroot at the thought of what John had just done, even if the man did insist he liked sucking cock. Not something he was sure about trying himself quite so soon. Not that John seemed to have any complaints.

Jamie knew he would have to tell him at some point. About Randall. About Sandringham. All Jamie could think about right now was quieting the turmoil in his soul now that he had finally admitted what he’d been fighting all this time.

‘It really does have to be a secret, doesn’t it?’ Jamie said, picking apart blades of grass in his fingers. He wasn’t sure that he ever wanted to try buggery, or getting buggered. He wasn’t sure how John would feel about that.

‘Yes, it really does. My brother is safe, to a point. He will never condone it but he will keep his peace as much as he can.’

‘Well, that’s something at least.’ Although it struck Jamie that every person that knew was a risk. How different everything had once been with Claire. Married before they even knew each other, when all Jamie knew was he wanted her for now and forever. ‘It cannae be how it is wi’ women. Married and living together and all that.’

‘No, that is indeed quite exceptional although not as rare as one might suppose with certain precautions.’

Jamie was surprised by that suggestion.

‘But our behaviour in public must be impeccable, Jamie. Not a hair out of place. Even with the Dunsany’s. You could get killed, I’m quite serious...’

It struck Jamie then that in all the years since John had reached out to him so long ago at Ardsmuir, that this was the one man in all the world who knew what it was to live your whole life as an Outlander.

Jamie watched John’s hand rise, shaking slightly and settle on his own. With his stomach turning somersaults, Jamie turned his palm over and clasped it in his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I often find Christmas Day a bit hard. There’s so much pressure sometimes to have a wonderful day and sometimes it is a challenge just to get through the day. So I make it a personal project to post a story every Christmas Day that I am able for anyone who needs something to help them them get through. Whether you are lonely or overwhelmed, overcoming life’s hurdles or dealing with the fallout, there are so many other people out there wishing you well, whatever that may look like for you.


End file.
